


Again

by Hooda



Series: Anthology [8]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars
Genre: Crying, F/M, Hurt but there is comfort, It gets dark, Mentions of Blood, One Shot, Second Death Star, cassian is amazing, cassian is kinder than he realizes, did i mention this is a one shot, how does Jyn react, mental prisons because Jyn still carries one around, more emotional angst internally, what the hell i had over an hour of complete down time and i came up with this story so hahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hooda/pseuds/Hooda
Summary: Sergeant Erso carries an expression so small, one would have to look hard at the tiny smirk or the ease of her gait to recognize the more internal glee. Like Cassian, some have begun to recognize these little changes in her attitude.It pains Mothma to have to say what she has to say. The news is too delicate to be delivered by just any droid, or sent by datapad correspondence.Death Star.The words float in the shadows and pass between rebels like poisoned words.Another Death Star.





	Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot. A very rickety one in need of fleshing out and editing, but a one-shot. (Who is Bill Nye the Science Guy? and why do people have an unnerving thing for him?)

Mon Mothma takes it upon herself to deliver the news to Jyn. It was only fitting to hear it from a reliable source than the rumors that were spreading like wildfire through Base.

The Pathfinders return victorious and a little tipsy from a month long mission to liberate an Imperial work camp on the outskirts of the Outer Rim. They reek of smoke and blood as they trek through the hangars, some jostling fellow soldiers around, too inebriated to yet notice the sunken looks of anyone’s faces on Base.

Sergeant Erso carries an expression so small, one would have to look hard at the tiny smirk or the ease of her gait to recognize the more internal glee. Like Cassian, some have begun to recognize these little changes in her attitude.

It pains Mothma to have to say what she has to say. The news is too delicate to be delivered by just any droid, or sent by datapad correspondence.

_Death Star._

The words float in the shadows and pass between rebels like poisoned words.

_Another Death Star._

The Senator is forced to spit the words out with wrapped in a blanket of comfort, a promise that they will end the threat. But it doesn’t matter when Jyn’s face crumbles into a look of raw pain, so much the Senator wants to hold her close like she would a daughter.

Jyn holds her chin high, but a hand drifts to her blaster.

She does not deserve this, Mon thinks, after everything she lost to save the dream. But she has to face it, again.

This time she will not be alone.

_______

Jyn only allows herself to collapse once she reaches her room. A slow buzzing prickles in her ears starts. Her entire body all of a sudden feels so much heavier, every step a monstrosity. The door hisses open when she slams the code in with too much force but never cares, not now, not when the alcohol in her system is replaced by dread.

The first thing Jyn hits when the door clips shut is the ice wall with a bare fist. It hits the wall with a smacking sound and Jyn doesn’t have to look at it to know that the hit drew blood.

Hot, angry, unbidden tears sting her eyes, but go unshed. She hits the wall twice more before she is satisfied that the pain in her hand equals the throbbing in her chest.

Her body slumps against the wall and her back drags down until she is a bundle on the icy floors. Sobs, terrible jerking things, suck out of her body and the back of her throat releases a moaning sound so animal like it hurts to release. Behind her closed eyelids tears press hotly and her mind is a numb mess of memories.

Chirrut, his milky eyes seeing through her unlike any other person alive. Baze, his shoulders thick with carrying the weight of worlds on them. Bodhi and the trembles that reminded him that he was still human. K2 and his witty disses that could diffuse tension like diffusing a bomb.

Jyn is not sure how long she lays in a heap on the frozen floors of her quarters but she does not care. It could have been hours. Her legs could freeze stiff and Jyn would absolutely not give a damn. Hot breaths roll across the air in front of her face in white spirals. They feel sharp against her frozen skin.

The hiss and snap of her door opening jerks her eyes open. Fingers refusing to bend or move, Jyn keeps her head down and tries to keep the pit of throbbing in her chest down before it suffocates her.

Warm hands cover her frozen fingers, pulling them from where they sit limp at her sides, and rub over the skin in a void attempt to warm them. Once they are able to move by their own accord, a hand comes to rest on her temple, pulling it up.

Cassian’s haunted eyes meet her’s in the diminishing light of the room. His cheeks are hollow, like he had not eaten anything sustainable in weeks. A thumb brushes over her face - she’s so cold - and the tenderness of the action has her struggling to keep the fresh urge to cry at bay. Her eyes burn.

It was almost as if the two months between their last reunion and now never even exited. He was hole, crouched in front of her, smelling like old spices.

“I know…” he whispers hoarsely, a sound that drags from the back of his throat so thickly. Nothing comes out of her mouth when she opens it. “I know.” His voice sounds too heavy, too sad.

He pulls her up to her feet slowly and by the wrists to avoid jarring her raw knuckles. Bones heavy and sore, it is a miracle she is even able to keep herself upright. When he disappears into the refresher in search of a medical kit, Jyn dumps herself unceremoniously onto the corner of the bed.

Cassian emerges a moment later with a box under an arm and a wet towel in hand. His touch is cautious and gentle over her torn knuckles that she wants to wrap herself in him and forget that anything is happening around them.

More than anything, Jyn wants to forget that the war ever even existed - forget that the Empire has yet again proven itself unstoppable.

The anti-bacterial spray stings against her raw knuckles. She winces.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

His eyes glance up to hers as he dabs at the lines of red across her skin.

The dread was still infant and new in the recesses of Jyn’s conscious.

Instead, Jyn cannot stop from watching through stinging eyes as Cassian’s fingers work their way around hers. They were calloused and marked in some spots. There were old marks from fading blisters - similar to the ones that litter her skin from missions. The rag comes away red and his eyes twitch to the injured, scraped raw area.

Where his elbow brushes her knee, she feels warmth spread. The aroma of spices wafts from the fabric of the blue parka. It tickles her nose. For a brief moment, she can ignore the dulling in the back of her mind to imagine where he was assigned.

Was he strolling through a market, hands clasped in his pockets, like the soldiers patrolling the streets were commonplace to his day? Did he run his fingertips through the large overflowing bowls of powders and grains, like the ones she used to admire for their variety of colors and lingering smells back on Jedha as a girl?

They work together in silence to wipe her blood from the ice wall. He takes the rag she hands him and presses it over and over, cleaning it as best as he can.

More than anything, she wants to cry. Not because she is weak and afraid of what is to come. No, it was more for the sake of releasing the pent up frustration and sinking weight in her abdomen.

The cave in her mind threatens to spit up flashes of memories. The latch holding it all down shakes with the sound of her father’s final words to her. The urgency in his voice through the almost long-forgotten hologram years prior almost makes her want to retch. It all comes broiling back - the sacrifices, the blood, the lives lost.

In the almost complete darkness of the room, no one can see her resolve breaking but Cassian. He would be the only witness to see Jyn bite down on her lip painfully and avert her eyes to the door when the tears become too much to hold back. There is no one but Cassian to pull her close.

For what could be hours, they stand together. Her arms find their way into his jacket and to the radiating warmth of his solid back. Beneath her raw palms she counts his breaths in and out, one by one. With a face streaked with wetness and a racing mind, she needs the press of his arm across her lower back more than he can imagine.

“I’m going to kill them,” she says into the rough fabric of his thermal shirt. “I’m going to make them hurt like they never have before.” Her voice shakes, vehemently.

Then in a quieter tone: “Are you with me?”

“All the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments - pos or neg - are always appreciated!


End file.
